Warm Front
by Karen Schubert

Trees bend and touch
in this change, all contact

and noise, shaking
nests, pods, petals,

apples hard and small like marbles
in the mouth.  The low moan

of thunder through the trough,
lightning like headlights

in the window of a darkened bedroom,
wet smell of loam.

Look at the spruce that fell,
roots rupturing ground-mush,

cleaving into the limbs of another
standing so close.  A tree falls

and all I hear is you asking
When will you come back?


Karen Schubert’s poems appear in DMQ, Conte, Lunarosity, The
Village Pariah
, Anti-, and others.  Her chapbook The Geography of
Lost Houses
was published by Pudding House (2008), and Bring
Down the Sky
was runner-up in the Parlor City Press 2010 chapbook
contest.  A contributing editor for
Muse, she lives in Youngstown, Ohio,
and teaches writing at Youngstown State University.

On “Warm Front”:
“Warm Front” is about the obsessive nature of new love; no
matter what is going on around us, our thoughts circle back.  I
wrote this after a long time away, in the midst of a lovely return.  
It’s also about the way we (I), or part of me, inhabits the natural
world.  I notice this when my partner and I are driving—he is
aware of the cars around us, and I’m seeing the grasses and the
play of low sunlight through the trees, the flickery shadows we
drive through.  And the way I sometimes assign human emotion
to what I see—trees as lovers.  And the way we can sometimes see
meaning in force or destruction.

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Apple Valley Review:
A Journal of Contemporary

ISSN 1931-3888

Volume 5, Number 2
(Fall 2010)

Copyright © 2010
by Leah Browning, Editor.  

All future rights to material
published in the
Valley Review
are retained
by the individual authors
and artists.